


Survival of the Fittest

by SapphyreLily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, F/M, M/M, best hate friends, just classmates being competitive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: What are best friends for, except to argue with?(You certainly don't make each other stronger by spurring each other on. No, of course not.)





	Survival of the Fittest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverAmoebasquid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverAmoebasquid/gifts).



> This is so self-indulgent and funny (ok well, I think it's funny) and I might turn it into a series of drabbles  
> This is all Erica's fault I love the idea of best hate friends now

You’re on the edge of your seat, eyes scrunched to almost slits with anticipation.

Almost, almost, almost. It’s almost time.

The teacher looks up, and your eyes meet. You can almost see him holding back his resigned sigh, and as his gaze flicks over to the other side of the room, an actual sigh escapes him.

“I will now be handing out your test results. Kindly _do not_ compare your marks with one another until after the class has ended. Aoyama-san.”

“Here!”

You tune out the teacher as he calls on the students, snorting a little to yourself. He  knows this situation far too well by now, and you can’t blame him for taking precautions.

The teacher is a little slow today, and your eyes dart to the other side of the room. A loaded glare meets your own, and you feel a haughty smirk rising to your lips.

You draw your thumb across your throat, and your staring partner scoffs.

“[Last name]-san.”

You reluctantly break the stare, turning to rise and collect your paper. Your eyes meet again as you return to your seat, and you level a smirk at Shirabu even though you haven’t had a look at your marks yet.

He wrinkles his nose at you, face returning to its calm demeanour as the teacher calls him next.

His back is turned, you are in the safety of your seat and you peek at the marks.

84 out of 100. Not bad.

(You know you could have done better.)

The teacher has finished giving out the papers, and begins going through the questions. You flip through your paper to find out where you lost marks, refusing to look up and across the room. You know how to choose your battles, and this is not one you are going to have right now.

If you can choose a time and place to stage your wars, then you most certainly will.

\-----

The bell rings, and people automatically move out of the way as the two of you storm across the room, meeting in the middle. Neither of you hold your paper in your hands, having returned it to the teacher as he left, but your folded arms and icy glares say it all.

(The room is still noisy, but the people in your immediate vicinity have turned away. They know better than to watch this showdown, and the tiny bit of privacy makes you feel better.)

You feel oddly proud to be glaring _down_ at him. It’s half a centimetre, but the miniscule gap still makes him twitch with annoyance every time you pull yourself up to your full height.

It makes you feel powerful.

“Stop looking down on me.”

“I’m so glad you know that, Kenjirou-kun,” you croon, and this time, his eyelid visibly twitches. You smirk at him, making no effort to hide your triumph over annoying him.

“I’ll be looking down at you in a second. I bet I did better on that test.”

“Oh?” You are nonplussed. This is the usual between the two of you. “Sensei said this was a hard test. Are you _certain_ you did better than me?”

“On the count of three, then.”

You nod. You know what he means.

“One, two, three!”

The bustle of the class goes on around you, a little more muted than it normally would be, but Shirabu stands still-lipped in front of you.

You fake a sigh. “See, now I’m just disappointed in both of us.”

Shirabu rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why we still do this if we never ever tell each other the truth anyway.”

“It’s more fun.” You shrug. “It’s more of a challenge to see which of our classmates will give in and tell us each other’s marks, don’t you think?”

A devious smirk tilts his lips up. “Now _that_ , we can agree on.”

You grin. “Wanna bet how long it takes to find out this time?”

“You’re on. I say before first period tomorrow.”

“So long?” You tut and shake your head. “You’re losing your touch.”

“I have club activities and so do you,” he points out. “If I find out any earlier – and you know I will – you’ll be sure to hear _all_ about it.”

“Bring it on, ruler-bangs.”

“Oh my god, _shut your face_.”

\-----

It isn’t too difficult to convince some of your classmates to tell you how much Shirabu scored, but you want to double check anyway – and pop into the class next door during a break.

The person sitting closest to the door rolls her eyes when you enter, and calls towards the back. “Kawanishi-kun, [Last name]-san is here again.”

You hide a laugh. The entire second year knows about the competitiveness between you and Shirabu, and most of them know your espionage techniques by now, not that you’re being very subtle about it.

You don’t know if Shirabu knows that you’ve been asking his teammate for his results all this time, but that doesn’t matter, not right now.

Kawanishi holds his hand out as you approach, and you slap a packet of candy into it. He runs his eyes over the packaging, nodding to himself. “He got something in the range of the As.”

“That’s not very helpful.” You try not to whine, but the blond flicks his eyes up at you, and you know you’ve failed.

“Okay, high 80s or low 90s, I think. He wasn’t very clear about it.”

Maybe Shirabu _was_ catching on after all.

No matter.

“Alright. I think I’ve got it. Thanks man.”

“No problem.” Kawanishi unwraps the candy and pops a gummy into his mouth. “Are you winning or losing this time?”

“That depends on whether or not you’re on my side for this,” you hedge. “We both know you could give me false info.”

A tiny grin appears on Kawanishi’s face at that. “Touché. He thinks he’s gonna win, so I’m with him this time. Doesn’t mean I lied, though.”

You put on your best smile and shrug. Kawanishi doesn’t usually lie, but you’d never know. “You’ll find out the outcome soon, I guess.”

You slip out of his class and back into your own, meeting Shirabu’s look with a raised eyebrow. He smirks back at you, tilting his head, and you struggle to hold back the scowl that wants to appear as you sit.

You have the facts. You know the results. You know what that smirk meant.

But you know how to pick your battles. This is one war lost, but there will be another to come.

You will not give your enemy the satisfaction of knowing he has prevailed this time.

Next time, you will come out on top.


End file.
